Lethal Type of Insanity
by 20 minutes
Summary: When the team is sent to find a missing asylum patient, they had no idea how hard they would have to fight for her - or how much almost every villain wants her. Set before season 2, because I like it like that.
1. Dementophobia

**Hey, look over there! What does that say...I...Don't...Own This...? What is that, some kind of disclaimer?**

* * *

_Dementophobia - the fear of going insane, being insane, those who are not sane, or just plain insanity. For example: "I'm afraid that I'm going insane."_

* * *

Batman has summoned the team for another mission – the eighth one in two weeks, and two were overnighters. The stress is killing us, but we don't dare say that in front of him – the whole reason this team was made was so that we wouldn't be treated as little kids anymore by our mentors.

Dressed in my McDonald's-colored costume, I speed into the debriefing room, where Batman is standing in front of the team; I'm surprised to see that I'm the last one. Miss Martian, Aqualad, Robin, Superboy, Rocket, and, much to my shock, Red Arrow are all standing in a semicircle, waiting for me to arrive.

"Nice of you to join us, KF," Robin teases, trying unsuccessfully to lighten up the mood. Everyone was too fed up and tired to joke – besides him, that is.

We all looked at him for a long, awkward moment before turning back to Bats. He clears his throat. "I know you all are overworked from the attacks, but it seems that it has all been in vain. Each and every one was a distraction from something bigger – something worse than the Joker's poisonous gas." I smirked at that last part of his sentence immaturely.

Aqualad furrows his brows. "What is it that you mean, Batman?" he asks, confused. In fact, we all are.

"All over the world, children of high potential have been reported missing or kidnapped, the most recent being a young girl of fifteen in the House for Minors with Mental Dysfunctions in Illinois yesterday," the Batman explains. After a brief moment of silence as we all take this information in, Superboy asks, "So…like an insane asylum?"

The league member nods. "To put it in simpler terms, yes. But, the problem is that she fought back against her attacker. In the end, they overpowered her and stole her away and disappeared. Three hours ago, the Justice League was alerted to her location. She seems to be alone. I want you to find her and bring her back here before she falls under the wrong influence."

I snort. "What's so special about this girl, anyways?" I ask, because I know everyone else is wondering the same thing. "You said that only "kids with high potential" were being taken. Why would the bad guys want with a psycho teenager so badly that they would break her out of a fancy-named crazy-house?" Okay, that may have been a little over-the-top, but who cares?

Batman narrows his eyes at me. "This 'psycho teenager,'" he growls, "is extremely lethal and confused. If someone were to get their hands on her, they'll have a very deadly weapon. She was trained to fight until she is the last one standing, and to vanish without a trace. With her destructive nature, she is found easily, but can always slip away if one tiny mistake is made. So far, the asylum in Illinois was able to hold her there the longest."

"And how long is that?" Comes Miss Martian's question.

"Almost six months."

Everyone's eyes widen, except maybe Robin's (but who would really know, with that mask on). "So, why doesn't the league go after her, if she's so important?" says the Boy Wonder.

"The League is busy enough with tracking down the dozens of other missing children, and believe that the team is capable of handling this mission. The coordinates have already been programmed into the bioship. Depart immediately."

We do as we are told.

Duh.

* * *

"Nearing position," Miss Martian drones, wiping sleep from her eyes, "Landing in five minutes."

And sure enough, they do. We slip soundlessly around an abandoned amusement park somewhere in Indiana with a partner, but so far there's no sign of the girl. I'm partnered with Aqualad, who has his swords drawn. _'Any luck?'_ I ask telepathically.

'_Not yet,'_ is Miss Martian's response.

SB's is similar.

Kid Flash and Red Arrow's are disappointing.

Rocket says _'No'_ also.

Aqualad only shakes his head slightly as an answer, considering he's right next to me.

'Great. For all we know, she might not even be here anymore.' It's very dark and late and we're all drained from the many missions we've been sent on – we won't last much longer. I growl aloud in frustration.

Only something growls back at me.

Aqualad and I freeze, glancing at each other as if making sure that it wasn't just in our heads. Quickly, we scan the perimeter, tense. Several seconds later, a dark cat scrambles from the darkness and across our paths, hissing. Aqualad visibly relaxes, but I don't. The other growl hadn't been the correct pitch for a cat, but my partner wouldn't know that.

An idea pops into my head. I whistle a three-note tune. For a while, nothing happens. _'Robin, what are you doing?' _Aqualad questions, butI only hold my arm in front of him, as if he were going to move. I whistle the same tune again.

Another whistle imitates me.

The "echo" came from the direction that the dark cat had fled from, and I take a step in that way.

Another set of feet does the same, going a step closer.

I repeat, stepping twice.

The other set does the same, and I can just barely make out her figure.

Once more, and I can see her clearly.

She's tall and fit and sort of tan, with grey almond-shaped eyes and blond hair that cascades like a waterfall to her mid-thighs. She's dressed only in a thin blue hospital shirt and darker blue pair of elastic-waist pants that are about as thick as my fingernail. She's wearing no shoes or socks. It's past midnight in the middle of October and she should be freezing, but she doesn't so much as shiver.

I give a small smile, and so does she. I try to figure out if she's playing a game or being serious when she tilts her head to side. That's when I realize that I did the same just before she had, which makes me grin. She also grins, showing off straight white teeth.

'_Team,' _Aqualad speaks telepathically, _'we have located the girl.'_

'_Kid Flash and I will be there soon. What's happening?' _Red Arrow's infiltrates my head.

'_She's…she's mimicking me…' _I tell them, studying the girl in front of me. She does the same, but there's intelligence behind her eyes, as if she really is trying to figure out what to make of me, even though she stands in the exact same position.

I whistle again, trying a different, more complicated tune. She gets it right the first time. I try again, with ten different notes instead, but she nails it once more. I step to the right. She steps to her right. And again and again and again. Soon we're going in circles around each other. I grin; she grins. I switch directions on her; she doesn't miss a beat. I whistle a few notes while stepping. So does she, after I've finished the tune.

But then, in mid-step, she freezes and tenses. There's a faint _whizzing _sound and she vaults into the air. The arrow imbeds itself into the concrete, sending the rock flying. She lands lightly, but snatches up a piece of pavement and chunks it back. There's a sickening _thunk_ as it hits its target and a grunt of pain. Red Arrow's bow falls to the ground from wherever he's hidden.

I hear another sound, something familiar and idiotic. "KF, stop! No!" I cry, but I'm not fast enough. The girl has picked up the bow and smacks my best friend so hard, I swear the bow broke – except that it didn't, because as Kid Flash rolls head over heels backwards, the blond snatches the arrow and notches so quickly that I don't remember her moving.

"Stop!" I say, but she doesn't seem to hear me as she aims and pulls back. So I take a chance. When I could act and attack, I only take a chance that probably won't work.

I whistle the same three-note tune as I had the first time. She perks, listening to see if I'm done. Then she does it back. I smile softly as she turns to face me, lowering the bow. It drops to the ground, clattering as she takes up the same position as me. "There, now. Take it easy. I'm not going to hurt you," I say in a hushed tone, "I promise."

For the first time, she doesn't repeat. Instead, she blinks in confusion and nods slowly, so I continue. "My name is Robin. What's yours?"

"Robin…like a little bird flying around…" the girl says dreamily. But then she snaps to attention. "Father said that names have power, even if you can change them. He said that if someone knows your name, they could always find you. I don't want them to find me. They took me. I didn't want to go. They said I had to, that if I didn't then they would hurt those I love. I don't have anyone left to love. They all hurt me. He hurt me. She accidentally starved me. She left. "

Her eyes don a glazed look, but I ask once again what her name is, because I would be able to find her if she were hurt. "They named me after a goddess. They said I would make them proud and that I was brave just like the goddess. That I was skilled just like her, as they knew I would be. But I didn't make them proud in the end," she says, with bitterness in her voice. "That's when she left. Jade. Jade left me alone with them. She forgot her toothbrush."

I piece the puzzle together, one by one. _The archery. The bravery. Named after a goddess, most likely Greek, as they are the most known. _"Artemis. Your name is Artemis," I say, but it's a statement more than a question. The girl nods quickly.

Then her eyes flicker to Aqualad, as if just noticing his presence. "You smell like fish."

"Well, it's a good thing I like fried fish, huh?" For a second, I thought that Aqualad had said that, but that doesn't make sense. He hates fried fish. Then I realize that I know that voice.

So I turn in shock and hatred to see the green-haired clown standing on the rooftop of an old, chipping snack bar.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Blunder Boy," the Joker mock-chastises, "You really have to stop being so serious all of the time."

* * *

**Well, there you go! Haven't decided on the pairing yet, maybe Spitfire, possibly (most likely) Traught. Cause I love those crazy kids (no pun intended).**

**See you on the flip-flop!  
**

**Insincerely,  
**

**Le Jokerette  
**


	2. Coulrophobia

**Well, Marching Band season is over, and I cried buckets, even if I'm not even a senior. Our drum major did too, but I think he has an excuse. But I finally finished this chapter.**

**Also, on the last chap, I stupidly asked whether this story should Traught or Spitfire, _after I had made Arty and Dick be the main characters-sorter-thing._ I swear, it's like stupidity is as bad as my allergies (which, btw, are horrible).  
**

**So, at our last contest, I managed to spot a sign in the crowd that said, "We Own Nothing But Plot." And then I was plowed down by the flute section. Thanks a bunch, disclaimers.  
**

**Insincerely,  
**

**~LJ  
**

* * *

_Coulrophobia - the fear of clowns._

* * *

"_Artemis. Your name is Artemis," I say, but it's a statement more than a question. The girl nods quickly. _

_Then her eyes flicker to Aqualad, as if just noticing his presence. "You smell like fish."_

"_Well, it's a good thing I like fried fish, huh?" For a second, I thought that Aqualad had said that, but that doesn't make sense. He hates fried fish. Then I realize that I know that voice._

_So I turn in shock and hatred to see the green-haired clown standing on the rooftop of an old, chipping snack bar. _

"_Oh, don't look at me like that, Blunder Boy," the Joker mock-chastises, "You really have to stop being so serious all of the time."_

I move protectively in front of Artemis, causing the Joker to grin like he just won the jackpot – showing off a mouthful of horrible, grotesque teeth from behind his blood-red lips. "Oh, Robin, always the gentleman, aren't you?" he chuckles. I say nothing in return.

In my peripheral vision, I can see Kid Flash trying to stand up, wincing from where Artemis had bashed him with Red Arrow's bow. The older member himself has yet to appear, but now is definitely not the time to worry about him; I honestly believe that he deserved a good rock-in-the-head for firing before I had given the word.

"Oh, my dear girl," the man coos, snapping my attention back to him, "they must have you so confused! Befriending you and then attacking you – how cruel! Do you not see that Robin has you wrapped around his finger?"

I feel her eyes dart to the back of my head quickly, but before I can reassure her, the Joker speaks again. "But dear, I would never do that to you! I understand you!" There's a pause as the clown lets her soak this in, and continues moments later. "They locked me up as well. Asylums, insane houses, and cuckoo farms! I know what it's like to long for freedom from the padded cells and the straight jackets, and just when my dream has come true, they shove me back in. I understand what you've been through," he sympathizes, gesturing his hands for effect. His gaze travels to me, triumphant.

"Artemis, don't listen to him," I whisper, never breaking eye contact with the Joker, "He's just trying to win you over. He was thrown in an asylum for prisoners, not like you." I drum my fingers along my thigh, just to check, and – to my relief – she does the same.

Unfortunately, the clown also sees this. His grin widens. "So you've taken a liking to the Bird Boy!" Then, faster than I can register, there's a small pocketknife in my shoulder.

I grunt and fall, blood already starting to seep out of the wound. I hit the cement, but I'm not down for long as KF grabs me and hauls me to safety. I struggle; I can't leave Artemis out there at the mercy of the Joker's words, or his knives, and I can't fail this mission because I can't disappoint Batman and my friends are just leaving her and won't put me down and-

I hear a sickening _thunk_. I'm able to twist around enough to see my remaining three teammates arrive, and the Joker lying facedown on the ground. With a start, I realize that my blond copycat isn't there and I begin to panic. Had she fled again? Could I catch her if she had?

There's a tap on my good shoulder, and I find Artemis' blurry face looking at me with curiosity. _'Miss Martian!' _Aqualad calls in everyone's heads, _'We have to go! I believe the knife had been poisoned!'_

Poisoned?

I know it must be true as my vision darkens and I begin to lose consciousness. The last thing I hear is psychotic, hysterical laughter, but the warmth of Artemis' fingertips on my shoulder drowns even that out. And then the lights go out like someone had flipped a switch.

* * *

I glance at the girl curiously. She sits, staring at nothing, and seems to be in another world, while the rest of the team is asleep in their chairs. _What is she doing?_ I vaguely wonder, before recalling that she is certifiably psychotic. I roll my eyes and look away, but my gaze keeps going back to her.

The glowing red "Surgery" sign glares into my mind, scarring my brain with its image. I scowl. It's all _her_ fault. She just _had _to be a damsel is distress, so Batsy would just _have _to send us on another mission just to find her, and Robin would just _have _to be a damn hero again.

I turn to heatedly glare into the back of her head, only to have her staring back. I flinch in her gaze, feeling the blood rush to me face. Sighing, the blond stands to her full height and stretches. She then pads silently down the hall and disappears around the corner, just as the sign's light is turned off and a doctor walks out, taking off his gloves. Miss Martian blinks, sits up, and shakes SB, whom she'd been sleeping on.

When we were all awake, the doctor begins by clearing his throat. "It seems that Robin will make a full recovery very soon," he declares, and I can literally feel Miss M's relief in the back of my mind. "We were able to stabilize him, and rid his blood of the toxin. It was a hard procedure, as there were more toxins that there should have been on the knife. He should be fine after resting for at least a week."

Miss M lets out the breath that we were all holding as the doctor retreats, hugging Superboy. I turn to zip away to inform the Batman of his protégé's condition, only to make it to the corner before I ram straight into someone. There's a dull thud as I stumble backwards; it must have been the other person falling.

"Oh, gee," I apologize, rubbing the sore spot on my forehead, "I'm sorry! I should really start watching where I'm speeding…" I trail off as I finally open my eyes to actually look at whom I'm rambling to.

Of course, it's none other than the psycho.

Now that I randomly think about it, I don't even remember her name. Diana or something, right? No? Whatever.

She stares blankly at me while I, as if she doesn't speak English. Well, she does have that foreign look to her… I offer her a hand up, seeing as I knocked her down and it would only be polite, but she gazes uncomprehendingly at my palm also. Jeez, did this girl grow up under a rock or something?

"Fine, be that way," I grumble, walking around her, "Live on the floor for all I care."

I hear her snort, and for some reason it made me smirk. Casting one last glance over my shoulder, I speed away. This time I watch out for pedestrians.

* * *

The first thing I see when I wake is a pair of grey irises staring back. I flinch, surprised at the proximity, but Artemis senses this and retreats. She grins at me, overjoyed at my awakening, and for the first time she seems focused.

"Robin!" she cries. She clasps her hands together in such a cute way that I have to crack a smile, but it soon disappears when I notice her clothing.

"Uh, Artemis?" I ask, sounding tense and unhappy even to my own ears, "Why haven't you changed clothes?" The blue fabric of her shirt and pants are ripped and tattered, not to mention that her face, arms, and feet were scratched and filthy. "Didn't they give you a change of clothes?"

She nods quickly. "Robin was still in surgery. Robin more hurt. Robin come first," she explains choppily.

I scowl, looking away from her. "Did they at least offer any?"

Once again, she nods. "Tried to force clothes. I wouldn't take." I would ask more, except the look on her face was…pitiful. There's no need to push her anymore than necessary.

Suddenly, the door slides open, revealing an unreadable Batman. His eyes widen by the smallest fraction when he sees Artemis – his version of surprise. "Robin," he begins, but I glance to the blond at my side instead of him. She's completely terrified of my mentor.

She flinches when I squeeze her hand, but after a moment of staring at my face, her eyes harden and she nods grimly. Shrinking as she passed Batman, Artemis exits the room after throwing one last nervous look back at me.

As soon as the door slides back into place, the Dark Knight asks me what had gone on during the mission. "Aqualad can give me the most information, but it is still incomplete," he says.

And so I explain everything, from the cat to the mimicry to the fried fish to the Joker's blade imbedded in my shoulder. My mentor's mood worsens as the story progresses, but I can tell that he tries not to show it so that I won't get upset. While I speak, I begin to realize just how tired I am, and it only gains momentum. Finally, I finish with, "How long was I out, Batman?" and a yawn.

His face doesn't betray any emotion anymore, as he seems to have gained control again. "Only about an hour, Robin, but the surgery itself took four. You need to rest now-" His sentence is cut off by a faraway explosion that shakes the foundation of the mountain and alarms screaming. Growling, he mutters to himself, "What now?" and leaves me alone with the wails of the emergency system and the sleep that overpowers my body, washing me away for the second time in the last twenty-four hours.

* * *

I find myself face-to-face with a harlequin, whose cover is a mask of rage and make-up. After the explosion had thrown me off my feet, my ears were attacked mercilessly by the shrieks of the alarms. To make matters worse, the mess of red and black and little white diamonds that cloud my vision assault and leave me confused beyond comprehension.

"So _this _is the lil' _witch _that got my puddin' shoved back intah thah slammer!" she snarls, her rough accent scraping my eardrums. "Ya don't look _that_ special tah me." Something hard and powerful slams at full force into the side of my body, tossing me aside like a forgotten rag doll. Pain reverberates through my person, but, unlike its intended effect, it clears my head.

Red tinges my vision as I face my attacker, and the rest is all instinct. All I feel is the hatred, the pain in my side, the anger, and the betrayal from my childhood that still plagues me in my nightmares as I claw and swing and kick. Someone grabs me, someone too strong, too inhumanly strong, and there's a rag over my mouth, stinking a sickly sweet smell. My animal-like scream is too muffled to be heard; too dampened to be noticed by Robin. When the drugs actually slow my brain down to process the scenario, my captor is whisked away by an unseen force, leaving nothing to hold my increasingly limp form.

And then my legs no longer support me, causing the tile floor to rush up to greet me.

* * *

**And that's where I'll leave you all, so now you can wait forever again! Yay!**

**In this one, you get to see that Artemis isn't really all that psycho, is she? And you also get her point of view. And Wally's, though none of my reviewers seem to appreciate him enough to care.  
**

**So what villain should I include in the next chapter, hm?  
**

**(Oh, and before I forget, look up "Healthy Levels of Insanity" on DeviantArt. They aren't a fanfic or anything, but they make me laugh.)**

**Insincerely,  
**

**~Le Jokerette  
**


	3. Lygophobia

**I suppose that it's time to get back to this again. Not that I'm complaining or anything. Nah, I love writing this stuff.**

**So, most of this chapter (or the big part that is _italicized_) is written in flashback.**

**Alright, I'm pretty pissed, to put it simply. I recently got a rather rude review on another story where the author threatened to stop reading this if I didn't update this in the next month. And by recently, I mean like three weeks ago. I was going to wait for a month, but I decided…I didn't really care about that review. The person is lame and a complete idiot if they think that will honestly get me to write this faster. News flash: I have my own life to live. I _do _have a life outside of writing friggin fanfiction all day long. I'm having problems with my dad, a crap load of school work, winter guard, band, friggin grades to get up, etc, etc. I'm _busy. _I can't write all day, no matter how much I want to. So suck it up, _oh-so_-mysterious and ever-annoying "L."**

**Recently the news was broken to me that Young Justice doesn't really belong to me, so…disclaimed. How lame, right?**

**Insincerely,**

**~LJ**

* * *

_Lygophobia—the fear of darkness and lacking of light._

"_So this is the lil' witch that got my puddin' shoved back intah thah slammer!" she snarls, her rough accent scraping my eardrums. "Ya don't look that special tah me.' Something hard and powerful slams at full force into the side of my body, tossing me aside like a forgotten rag doll. Pain reverberates through my person, but, unlike its intended effect, it clears my head._

_Red tinges my vision as I face my attacker, and the rest is all instinct. All I feel is the hatred, the pain in my side, the anger, and the betrayal from my childhood that still plagues me in my nightmares as I claw and swing and kick. Someone grabs me, someone too strong, too inhumanly strong, and there's a rag over my mouth, stinking a sickly sweet smell. My animalistic scream is too muffled to be heard; too dampened to be noticed by Robin._

_And then my captive is whisked away by some unseen force, and my legs no longer support me._

Before my head can crack against the cold tile floor, something grabs my shoulders and lifts me back up until my feet are flat on the ground. Though the force, possibly the same force as the one who saved her from the captor, doesn't let me go. In my hazy stupor, I flinch as I'm forced to look into a blur of freckles and red and yellow and a fierce green. Fear pulses through my veins. I push and kick, desperately fighting to get away from the familiar, piercing green color.

"Stop…struggling!" a voice slices through my mind, and I freeze. The voice was male, and not at all the mysterious tone that I'm expecting. "Jeeze, I'm only trying to help."

Finally recognizing who it is, I nod and blearily fall into unconsciousness.

* * *

"_No! Artemis, you leave your left side open to your opponent! Do it again!" Father barks, and the black-haired girl swings her saber at me once more. I dodge, somersaulting to the ground and bounce back up in time to parry the next blow. The girl and I stand, both of us leaning into the blades and trying to overpower the other. Sweat trickles down my forehead, running into my eye, but I do not let up._

_Suddenly the girl steps back, allowing my weight to fall forward and slices my right side. Immediately my hand flies to the injury, gauging the severity, but a heavy boot connects with the wounded area before a conclusion could be reached. I gasp as the pain gives my vision a red, throbbing tinge. "Little girl," Father sneers above me, "you are a failure. I trained you better than this. Do not disappoint me again." He snatches my arm roughly and yanks me to my feet, almost dislocating my shoulder in the process. The saber is shoved back into my bloodied, blistered hands and the girl charges me._

_Before the spar can begin, however, the scene changes. I'm in a dark room with two beds and a poster of a blond girl and a smiling cat. There's a slight tug on my right side, below my ribcage, and it turns out to be the black-haired girl. She has concentration written all over her face as she threads a needle into my side. After doing this several times, she cuts the string and ties it, leaving an even row of stitches. "Jade…" I hear my own voice say. _

_The girl looks up with remorse plaguing her eyes. "I'm sorry, Artemis. I couldn't do anything. Dad—he would have made it worse. Just so I would have to watch." Her voice cracks, but she doesn't shed one tear. "I'm sorry."_

_ I don't say anything, only laying my head in her lap. "Tell me a story, Cheshire."_

_Jade gives me a weak smile and begins without a book, "There once was a little girl named Alice…"_

_Once again the scene changes, and this time there's a woman sitting in a wheelchair, yelling at Father. "What have you done to her?" she demands, slamming her fists down on her mobile chair. "Where is my daughter?"_

_Father's face is red with rage and I start to fear for the woman. She wouldn't stand a chance against his anger. "Why would I tell you, even if I knew? She's finally following in our footsteps, just like Artemis will be."_

"_Get out," the woman growls, causing me to wonder just how lethal she is, even while bound to a chair. "GET OUT!" Her shriek is followed by a slamming door._

_Minutes tick by slowly, marked by the clicking of a traditional clock hanging on the wall. The clock that Jade broke the day before she left and the clock that Father forced me to fix without help and the clock that stops periodically because I was only thirteen years old with no idea how to fix it. Finally, the woman sighs, hanging her head low. "Artemis, I know you're there. You can come out now."_

_I take a tentative step out of my hiding place from the hallway. "M-Mom…?" I ask, because it's almost surreal. It's too good to be true. Jade told me that Mom wasn't coming back. That it was just Father and us here, forever._

"_Yes, dear, I'm home."_

_That was all that was needed for me to hear, because in the next instant the woman was enveloped by my hug. Then we were both sobbing, because we never could for the last five years._

_The scene changes one last time, and it's not as nice as the last time. I can't see anything, but I can hear voices. "You can't take her away from me! How is this legal? Stop! No! ARTEMIS!"_

_That was Mom's voice, screaming for me. I try to call out to her, only to find that I cannot even open my mouth. When I try to touch my face, to see if I can pull off whatever is clamping my lips together, I can't move my arms. Panicking as the darkness seems to expand, I flail the best I can._

_Screeching through my clench-shut jaw, I slam all of my weight – which, at this point, isn't close to what it should be – to the right, relishing in the feel of my shoulder shrieking in protest. There was a wall, most likely metal, but there was a wall. It didn't go on forever._

_My relief is short lived as my mind flashes to a different time against my will. I remember the small, damp, enclosed space that smelled of mold and cleaning products. I swear that I can feel the rough, calloused hands of Father as he shoves me by the throat into the closet and locks the door with me inside. The darkness that held me for the hours, sometimes even days, which would tick by slowly. Even the small crack under the door or around it offered my small form no light. I clearly hear in my mind the beating of my bound hands on the metal door and my feet on each wall as I struggle to make my living space a little larger, to keep the darkness at bay and the sides from crushing me._

_Back in the reality that gives no comfort, my ears are flooded by the sound of my mother's pathetic wails, of which I try to join but fail. I can't take it. I'm starving, I'm voiceless, and I'm frightened. No—I'm **terrified**. Because I am enveloped in darkness, a black veil that has plagued me since my early childhood. Because I was never safe, not even when I couldn't be seen. Because I am alone in the dark. Again._

"_If you can see them, they can see you, little girl," I hear Father sneer from the back of my mind. "But, even if you cannot, they probably can anyway."_

_He was probably watching me now. He was always watching me. Always tempting me to leave and continue my training. So I'm not safe. Not when I can't see them. Not now._

_Not ever._

* * *

Gasping, I sit up, one hand over my beating heart and the other supporting my shaking body.

The room attacks me with a bright white light and the smell of disinfectants. For a moment, I fear that I'm back in one of those hospitals, but gradually my memory feeds me information on what has just occurred. I blink the brightness away a few times, trying to control my breathing as I relish in the fact that I was never truly in the dark.

As soon as my eyes are adjusted to the light, I notice a familiar form lying on a cot and realize exactly where I am. "Robin!" I cry, overjoyed at the sight of him, but the black-haired boy does not open his eyes. Sensing my mistake, I study his sleeping form. The steady rise-and-fall of his thin chest comforts me, knowing that he was okay.

Robin…he wasn't like the others, the other teenagers, here. He was different, intriguing. He was younger with a slighter, more graceful build, but I could practically feel the power radiating off of him. Sure, he was human and only human, not a Meta, yet he kept up with them. From my viewpoint I can see his lean muscles, so I know he isn't weak. But the differences don't stop at physical appearances. He had a calming voice—so much unlike that of the boy with the confusing colors. He practically radiated understanding. He knew just how to catch my attention and stop me from doing something that I may or may not regret later. He took a knife for me.

He took a _poisoned _knife for me.

It was this instant that I realize that I would do the same for him. Looking down at him as he lies on the cot, unconscious—sleeping, whatever—he seems so…vulnerable. It is wrong. He should not look like this, and it's my fault in the first place. I'm going to make it up to him—I will not be in his debt. I will protect him until he can himself.

So when the doors slid open behind me to reveal that _damn_ harlequin in that _damn _costume, all of hell broke loose.

And I mean _all_ of it.

* * *

**Ha! Done! Chapter friggin three is friggin done! Frig! Heh, that last "frig" is for dramatic effect. Did it work? No? Well, frig.**

**I have had abso-friggin-lutely no time to type. That is why I'm uploading this at what…ten after midnight? Frig. **

**Okay, I have a couple of questions for my dear reviewers: do I sound too formal in this? I'm going for a bit formal, but I just want to make sure it's not too much, you know? **

…**yeah. This chapter was pretty much backstory stuff. Provide reason, motive, whatever. And cause I've hit block-hell. I'm not sure what to do. I know the key points that are going to happen, its just…getting there. It hurts me.**

**~Le Jokerette, aka 20 minutes**


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